Marmalade Mornings
All those Marmalade Mornings
Then Jack Daniel nights
I still think back often
To those days of delights.
.


No cares, had we then
For the woes of today
Life was for living
A place then to play.
.

Made love, in the mornings
Again, half the night
We could never be parted
Between each long flight.
.

Then the knife of reality
Stuck hard, in the desk
The cards, that it dealt us
Were truly grotesque.
.

No choice but to part then
To both go, our own ways
Though those, Marmalade Mornings
I still miss, those fond days

Comments:
 
frederic   frederic wrote
on 10/6/2009 8:07:36 PM
Yes, the marmalade has sentimental value for you. I like the nostalgia of the poem because you're stating that the nostalgia, yearning even, is to be equated with life. Live it and enjoy. It's unrehearsed. There are no guarantees. Good point.

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